


The Plush Kitty's Incredible Journey

by EnbyWitch (orphan_account)



Category: Septicego - Fandom, jacksepticeye
Genre: The Velveeteen Rabbit meets Homeward Bound, part of my friend Asri's personal alternate universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16093418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/EnbyWitch
Summary: Marvin's stuffed kitty cat becomes real and ventures out on a journey to find his boy!





	1. Chapter 1

****Marvin came into his room in a panic, grabbing his backpack and shoving as many clothes and food as he could fit. Mr. Fluffington, his white stuffed cat, lay on his bed, watching him curiously.

'What are you doing Marvin?' the stuffed kitty wanted to ask, but had no voice for. Only in play could Marvin vocalize his thoughts for him, but they were not playing now, and he could only lay there and watch his owner.

Not once in Marvin's panicked packing did he look at his favorite stuffed kitty. Mr. Fluffington watched Marvin zip up the backpack and leave out the door. The kitty waited for Marvin to come back, to realize he'd left his kitty behind. He waited for hours. Marvin's parents called for Marvin, walking all over the house and into his room, and leaving again. No one noticed him lying there, forlorn and forgotten.

Days passed by and Marvin never returned. Weeks passed, and Marvin's parents came into the room and began clearing it out. Everything Marvin left behind was either being donated or thrown away.

Marvin's mom paused in the middle of her collection of Marvin's toys when she saw Mr. Fluffington lying there, his blue eyes somehow dull and sad. She picked him up, looking at him with a regretful look, and threw him into the trash bag with the rest of the toys, and tied it up.

The bag was jostled around for a bit then heavily plunked down. Mr. Fluffington didn't know where he was, but he was worried. Not as much for himself as he was for Marvin. Who would protect the boy at night from monsters and ne'er-do-wells? Who would the boy cuddle when he was sad and scared and all alone? It didn't matter how old Marvin was, the kitty felt a duty to love and protect him and he couldn't _do_ that when he was trapped here in this bag! He had to get out and find his owner!

His will was so strong and his need so desperate, that he felt some deep magic stir within him. It was warm and gentle at first, like the way Marvin held him in his arms. Then it gradually grew fierce and hot like a furnace, or the love Mr. Fluffington had for the boy.

At the start of this the little plush had not felt pain, but by the time the warm magic got too hot to bear he was crying out in pain. And then as soon as he realized he had his own voice the magic faded, and he had real fur, and eyes.

Mr. Fluffington blinked. He was a real cat! He could blink! And talk! Did he have claws? He stretched a paw out at the bag and mewed in surprise when his paw got stuck to the plastic.

He pulled his paw down and was pleased to see the bag shred under his paw. He wriggled in between the toys and through the flap he created and jumped out. It seemed the bag had been placed in a pile of donations and that his fate would have been dubious had his desire to go find Marvin not been so strong.

Celebrating his newfound freedom and limbs, Mr. Fluffington runs off down the road as far as his paws can carry him, until he stops to rest under a small underpass, and catch his breath. He knew that he had been granted a chance to find his boy, but who knows how far Marvin would have traveled by now? The cat was no bloodhound, so he would have to rely on instinct and that internal compass cats seemed to have, in order to be reunited with the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

He continued on with his journey at a more reasonable trot down the lane, stopping at streams to quench his thirst now and again. How amazing it was to be able to drink the cool water and feel the damp sand between his toes! How amazing it was to be alive!

Mr. Fluffington followed the road until it turned into two more roads. He looked left. He looked right. As far as his crystal clear blue eyes could see it was nothing but road for either side, with the occasional car that passed, the wind nearly blowing him off his feet.

His gut told him to go left. He had a real good feeling for it. His gut also told him he was hungry and either needed to hunt or scavenge for a meal.

The kitty didn't know the first thing about hunting. For all his existence he'd never felt any pain or hunger. Having just become alive an hour ago, he was suddenly met with all the trials of living. But it was okay, as surely as he knew how to walk he would be able to learn how to hunt and care for himself as the real cat he was.

Another few cars passed by and he turned left to follow that road as far as it would go, or until it passed a field where he could hunt for mice.

He remembered the picture books Marvin used to read about field mice and bunnies and sly foxes, and barn cats meant to keep mice and rats out of feed. He couldn't see himself as a barn cat; he'd much rather prefer to be a house cat, but for the moment he would have to make do.

Eventually the road passed a farm and Mr. Fluffington made a detour to go hunting. It was... An interesting experience, to say the least. He entered the barn, treading so quietly with ears perked, listening for the tiny footfalls of mice scampering about.

It was quiet except for the sounds of livestock in the distant pastures. Mr. Fluffington explored the pens and hopped up the ladder to the hay racks above, but found nothing.

"And just what d'ya think /yer/ doing trespassin' here?" a loud and rather annoyed voice demanded from behind Mr. Fluffington, scaring him so much he fell over himself into the hay. He rolled over and got up, preparing to fight whoever had caught him.

A ginger tom cat, probably not much older than Mr. Fluffington, sat near the ladder, flicking his tail and looking fairly ticked off. "Did ye hear me? Or are ye deaf as well?"

"N-no I-" Mr. Fluffington squeaked out. "I'm sorry to intrude, I didn't realize- I didn't think-"

The tom rolled his eyes. "Ye didn't think anyone would realize a strange cat goin' into places that don't belong to him, eh? I ought to teach ye a lesson for the next time ye think about wanderin' where ye ple-"

Mr. Fluffington's stomach audibly growled, loud enough to cut the ginger cat off in surprise.

"Oh I see, yer hungry," the tom answered, his voice warmer now and his tail still. "Ye were lookin' fer mice weren't ye?"

The white kitty nods, shaking straw from his fur.

"Well I wouldn't be a very good barn cat if I didn't keep this place free of 'em, but I can't very well let ye leave hungry. That wouldn't be very hospital of me," the cat sighs, shaking his head. "Me name's Barney, what's yers?"

"Ah, um, Mr. Fluffington."

Barney stuck his tongue out. "Sheesh, who named ye? A human kit? What a name! I'm gonna call you Fluffers, if ye don't mind. A lot less embarrassing if ye ask me."

Mr. Fluffington doesn't reply. It was probably a little bit embarrassing, but Marvin was so young when he named him! He'd never been called anything else, and he had a bit of an attachment to the name anyways. The white kitty knew he probably wouldn't hang around Barney long enough to object to the name, so he'd put up with it for now.

The two of the descended one after the other, dropping gracefully to the barn floor. "Do they call you Barney because you're a barn cat?" Mr. Fluffington asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

Barney scoffed. "Eh, it was probably part of it. The mistress took to calling me Barney after a while. Every mornin' she'd come in to milk the cows and leave me a little saucer of milk as a reward for me hard work. That's all I answer to now. I kinda like it. What about yers, Fluffers?"

"My owner gave it to me when he was very small, and it's something I'm partial to," Mr. Fluffington answered. "I wouldn't change it for the world."

"Awww, that's real sweet," Barney purred. "And where is this lad, if I may ask?"

Mr. Fluffington's tail and ears drooped. "I... I don't know. He left home quite a while ago and I've only recently been able to be free to look for him, but I haven't the faintest idea where he went."

Barney regarded him quietly. "Sorry to hear that," he said, softly, truly sorry to hear it. "Wait here, I'm goin' huntin'. Both for food, and information." With that, the ginger tom turned tail and ran out of the barn, leaving Mr. Fluffington alone with his thoughts.

Instinctually, he began grooming. How interesting, that. Things that he thought he would have to learn how to do just came so naturally! It must have been the magic that made him real. It must have done something to make him function like a real cat.

Barney returned just as Mr. Fluffington began bathing his tail, two mice hanging from his mouth by their tails. "Right!" Barney mumbled, dropping the mice in front of the white cat. "I figured that'll be enough, and if it's not..."

He licked his lips. Enough said. Mr. Fluffington nodded, and sank his teeth into one still warm mouse. Despite being his first meal ever, it was still certainly better than anything he'd ever imagined!

"So I asked around," Barney started, bringing the white cat's attention back to him. "The lasses out in the pastures, the cows, they see everythin'. Everyone that goes down the lane. Most of them don't bat an eyelash, but if there's anythin' peculiar, they usually remember it for a while."

Mr. Fluffington finished the first mouse and waited, ears pricked, for Barney to continue.

Barney eyed the last mouse, but said nothing about it. "I asked whether they'd seen a young human travelin' past the farm at all, and our oldest said she'd seen a boy running down the lane like he was being hunted by wild dogs. About a moon ago."

"Did she see the direction he went?" Mr. Fluffington asked. He put a paw over the second mouse, which made Barney turn his gaze away.

"She said it was clear he was headed out of town," the ginger cat answered. "He could be anywhere by now, but follow the road until it turns to dirt and then follow the strange metal tracks with the sun on yer back until you reach a place with air so thick and smelly that you can taste the filth for weeks after ye leave."

Mr. Fluffington cocked his head and blinked. "All that from the cows?"

"Ah, no, I got that advice from the crows that come around to feast on loose feed and share the gossip of the town," Barney admitted. "I don't trust them, but that's yer best bet if you ever wish to see yer young lad again."

Mr. Fluffington looked down at the second mouse. "How long will it take me to get there?" he asked.

"As the crow flies, the moon will rise many times before you reach the city," Barney said. "But as fast as ye'll be walkin', it will be so many more. Now eat that mouse before it gets cold, will ye?"

The white kitty nodded and settled down to eat the last mouse. He would need his strength for the upcoming journey.

As soon as he finished, he licked his lips and groomed his face and began heading out the door. Barney walked with him as far as the road, and pointed him in the right direction.

"This is where our paths separate, Fluffers," Barney said with a sort of regretful finality. "May we meet again someday."

Mr. Fluffington doubted it, but he nodded. "Thank you so much for all you've done."

"Twas only the right thing to do. A little kindness goes a long way, so pay it forward when you can," the ginger cat replied. "Now get along while the sun is still up, and I'd say ye'll reach the tracks by nightfall."

Mr. Fluffington nodded, closing his eyes briefly as he rubbed his head along Barney's in gratitude and began trotting down the lane.

His journey had begun!


End file.
